


Meet Maddie

by ModernDayBard



Series: Maddie Moore, an American Girl [1]
Category: American Girl Dolls - All Media Types
Genre: Modern Characters - Freeform, Original Characters - Freeform, Original Story - Freeform, modern story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:06:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29735013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernDayBard/pseuds/ModernDayBard
Summary: Maddie Moore knows that having a parent in the military can mean making big sacrifices, but there’s a difference between moving every three years and having to say goodbye to your Dad at the airport. Now facing a year without him, Maddie and her mom have to make a choice about what the coming months will be.
Series: Maddie Moore, an American Girl [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2185428
Kudos: 1





	1. Goodbye

When her parents weren’t looking, Maddie Moore pinched her left wrist as hard as she could. Wasn’t that what people did to wake up from dreams that they didn’t like? She’d been doing it all morning, doing everything she could on the chance that the last few months had been nothing but a dream.

She’d happily live them all over again, if only she could wake up back in her room and realized she’d dreamed that conversation up…

* * *

_Maddie had only ben in bed a few minutes when Dad knocked softly on the door and asked if she was awake._

_“Yeah,” she answered, sitting up as Dad came in and knelt by her bed so that their heads were at the same height. It was dark in her room, because Maddie had trouble sleeping if there was even the tiniest bit of light in her room, but the hall light spilled in enough to let her see the serious expression on Dad’s face. She wanted to ask what was wrong, but the words got stuck in her throat._

_“I—I got new orders toady, Maddie,” Dad said gently, and Maddie’s stomach dropped—Dad was in the Air Force, and new orders meant he was getting sent to a different base. They’d only just moved to Virginia last summer: they couldn’t be moving again already?_

_“I’m going to have to go away,” he continued, and Maddie clutched her stuffed Spiderman tightly. He had to go away? There were only a few places in the world he could be sent with her and Mom. Unless—_

_“Are you going TDY?” Maddie asked in a little voice. She didn’t really know what the letters stood for, but she knew it meant that Dad would only be gone for a week to a month or so, and usually somewhere safe—_

_Dad shook his head. “I’m going to be deployed for a year. In August.”_

_Three months away. Deployed—Maddie was 9, but she knew that meant he was being sent to where the fighting was— “Where?”_

_“Baghdad, Iraq,” came the answer, and Maddie didn’t cry then—_

* * *

—but now, she was kinda wishing that she had, because she wanted to cry now, but couldn’t. So, instead, Maddie pinched herself every few minutes as she followed her parents through the airport and prayed that she would wake up back in bed that night and find that conversation had never happened— _would_ never happen.

Dad had told her that he wasn’t going to fight, but to help rebuild the city, since he worked in logistics, but Maddie knew that it would still be dangerous. She couldn’t really remember a time before the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, but this was the first time it was _her_ dad going. Somehow, even though he’d been in the military since before he’d even met her mom, it’d never seemed like something that could _really_ happen.

Only now, it was.

Maddie had seen scenes like this on the news, in movies, about families saying goodbye at the airport, but this wasn’t like them—she wasn’t _crying_. Shouldn’t she be _crying_? (She felt like she wanted to, but she _couldn’t,_ so she kept pinching and praying.) But now Dad was hugging her and that meant that he was _leaving_ and she didn’t want him to go—didn’t want him to miss this year, didn’t want him to _go_ —and wasn’t she supposed to do something? Say something? In the movies, the kids always asked their dads (or moms) not to go, but Maddie knew this wasn’t his choice—he didn’t get to choose not to go any more than he go to choose when or where they moved, so asking him to stay would only make him feel bad. And since he _had_ to go, Maddie didn’t want to make this any harder than it already was.

“I love you, Daddy,” she said at last, forcing the words out past the pain in her throat that _still_ wouldn’t melt into tears already!

Dad didn’t say anything at first, but he held her even tighter, so he probably had a pain in his throat, too. But finally, she heard him whisper right in her ear, “I love you so much, Maddie. _So_ , so much.”

He didn’t tell her to look after Mom while he was gone (this really wasn’t _anything_ like the movies—was it?), but he did hold Mom extra long and hard, too. Then he was walking away, and Mom’s hands were on her shoulders, and a part of Maddie wanted to run after him—to make him stay? For one last hug? She didn’t even know—but she’d spent her whole life around checkpoints and gates that you weren’t supposed to go through unless you were allowed, and she knew it would only make this worse, so she stayed, stayed quiet, and dug her nails into her wrist one last time.

Looking down, she could see a dozen crescent-moon marks her nails had made on her wrist, and knew that even more had already faded from view.

This wasn’t a dream.

* * *

Maddie’s mom held her hand all the way back to the parking lot—something she hadn’t done since Maddie was little, but Maddie guessed that Mom needed it right now, and she didn’t mind, so she let her.

They didn’t say anything, though—the whole way back to the car, and most of the ride home. Maddie didn’t know if Mom was waiting for her to talk, or if her throat hurt the same way Maddie’s did (or maybe she didn’t know what to say, either.)

So, they rode home in quiet, without even the radio playing. (They _always_ had music in the car, and Maddie and Dad were almost always singing along, even this morning, but Maddie didn’t feel like singing and didn’t mind when her mother turned the radio off).

“Or, do you want—?” She began, and she sounded as hoarse and scratchy as Maddie felt. Maddie saw Mom looking at her in the rearview mirror and shook her head. She couldn’t sing right now, anyway, with her throat still hurting. “Okay.”

So, the radio stayed off, and they drove home in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By far, this was the hardest chapter to write in all three first books. Not that it was difficult to find the words or took long at all—I wrote it in one sitting, but going back through old memories and the headspace I was in when I was nine and saying goodbye to my dad…I was in tears.


	2. Changes?

The worst part about everything changing was that it seemed like so little changed.

The sun still came up and went down, Maddie still got hungry for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, the Moore’s dog, Licorice, still needed to go on walks, and during the day, Maddie could _almost_ believe that dad was just at work, coming home that evening.

It was dinner time and everything after that was really different.

It was a smaller meal, since the biggest appetite in the family wasn’t there: quieter, too—normally Dad would be asking about what happened in their day while he was at work, but Mom was at home with Maddie and school hadn’t started yet, so what even was there to talk about?

And after dinner, Maddie would go back to her room and wait for bed ime (read, listen to music, maybe play a little with her toys or with Licorice, though it didn’t feel very fun in such a quiet house).

Right before bed most nights, Maddie would look for the moon out her window, and sing very quietly the song from a movie they’d watched as a family just a few months ago: ‘Somewhere Out There’ from _An American Tail. “And even though you’re very far from me tonight, it helps to think we’re sleeping underneath the same moonlight; and though I know how very far apart we are, it helps think we might be wishing on the same bright star!”_ She couldn’t say why, exactly, she sang it, especially that much, except that it felt like a way of remembering. It felt _right_ , even if it felt a little silly, sometimes.

Everything felt so different, but so little changed…

* * *

Maddie took Licorice for his walk, letting him amble along as slowly as he liked (he was an _old_ dog, and anyway, he was big enough that it would’ve been pretty tiring for Maddie to drag him into going any faster), and just…thinking.

Was this going to be what the whole _year_ was like? Quiet dinners, quiet evenings…No Dad coming to school for career day…or to her dance shows…no one helping her sing along with the radio…no help from Dad on her math homework…Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Easter without him—her _birthday_ without him—not even seeing him surprise Mom on Valentine’s Day like he loved to…

_Mom._

Maddie _did_ love her Mom, it was just—Dad was the one who sang with her, played with her, would go with her to breakfast and the zoo some weekends: Mom was the quiet one that Maddie would go to when she was upset (except now, because there wasn’t anything Mom could say or do about _this_ ), the one who watched and listened—was there to pick her up from school and dance lessons, but—what was it going to be like living with _just mom_ for a whole year? What if they argued a lot? Or didn’t talk to each other?

Licorice pulled on the leash a little ready to more on, then looked back at Maddie with his dark brown eyes. Maddie couldn’t help it: she knelt next to him on the sidewalk and hugged him, starting to cry.

They were the tears that hadn’t come at the airport—at least that’s what Maddie told herself.


	3. Breakdown, Breakthrough

Because the windows in Maddie’s bedroom faced east, in the summer, she was usually up and awake (if moving slowly) after Dad had left for work but before Mom was up and about. But ever since Dad deployed, Mom was usually already at the table, coffee in hand, when Maddie woke up.

She was there today, and glanced up a little as Maddie got her usual bowl of cereal and grabbed an apple from the fridge. Maddie looked around the kitchen and stopped in her tracks. It wasn’t _messy_ exactly—it was almost impossible to imagine Mom letting any part of the house get truly _messy_ —but the clean dishes hadn’t been put away yet and the can of coffee grounds was still on the counter, by the coffee pot.

That’d been happening more and more—things Mom normally wanted to take care of right away were sometimes left for a few hours—if they didn’t get left for the next day. It was never anything _really_ important but Mom had always said that clutter and mess stressed her out, so it _was_ strange.

Maddie turned to go to the table and saw Mom in the doorway, half-empty coffee cup in hand. “Maddie? You’re just standing there—”

“Just thinking,” Maddie replied automatically, moving aside so Mom could get to the microwave to reheat her coffee.

…Sitting in the microwave was another half-full cup of coffee: probably from yesterday morning. Mom stared at it for one second, then another, so Maddie quietly said, “If you give a mom a muffin?” (It was from a joke Mom had made a few months ago, about how she’d get distracted when she’d see all the things that needed to get done, and never get around to her muffin and cup of tea/coffee gone cold in the microwave. Maddie had never liked the joke—it seemed sad and unfair—but Mom and Dad had laughed at it, so she tried it now.)

Only this time, Mom didn’t laugh. She closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath that sounded kind of shaky—Maddie didn’t like how scared and sad it sounded, so she hurried to the table and focused on her breakfast as Mom poured one cup into the other and started to reheat it.

She tried not to wonder how many days _this_ cup would last.

* * *

Maddie’s best friend, Alex, came by, and the two girls took Licorice for his morning walk before going to play at Alex’s house.

Alex had been super nice to Maddie when the Moore family first moved in—she was so excited to have someone her age living just down the street, especially when it turned out they’d be going to the same school—and the two had been best friends ever since.

After Dad deployed, Alex had been even nicer to Maddie—making sure that they played whatever she wanted (when she had an opinion; sometimes, she didn’t _know_ what she wanted to do), and telling jokes or being silly to help Maddie laugh or smile. (Even on days when she didn’t feel like it, knowing that Alex cared at least made her feel a little better.)

Maddie was afraid that she wasn’t as much fun to be around right now, but she didn’t want to go a whole year without Dad _and_ Alex, so she tried not to be too gloomy when she was at her friend’s house.

So, they did all the things they usually did—walked Licorice, climbed trees, danced around to their favorite songs, pretended to be ‘secret agents’—and Maddie actually felt more normal, if only for a few hours.

* * *

But she had to go home for dinner, and the heavy quiet settled around her again as she came in the house. She didn’t call out that she was home, and Licorice thumped his tail against the floor when he saw her, but he didn’t bark.

Maddie didn’t hear Mom moving around, but she did hear…something. Curious, she followed the sound to her parents’ room and found the door half-open. Mom was sitting on the floor, leaning against the unmade bed—

—and crying.

Maddie froze: she had _never_ seen Mom cry before, and now she was _sobbing_. Her first instinct was to run, to go away and pretend that she hadn’t seen this until she forgot that she did. But—

—but Mom had never done that to _her_.

Even when Maddie would be crying over something little or silly, Mom would hold her and stay with her all the same—Maddie _couldn’t_ leave her alone, now.

So, she slipped into the room, sat beside Mom, and hugged her, Mom stiffened, then she started crying _harder_.

“I—I’m sorry,” she gasped out between the sobs. “I don’t—don’t want to scare you, sweetie. I’m okay. I’m okay, just tired. I didn’t sleep last night. I-I’ve been having trouble sleeping, that’s—that’s all.”

Of _course_ that wasn’t all, but it was the part that Mom felt like she could or should be able to fix or change, Maddie could tell. And it did explain how…how _slow_ Mom had been lately. And if she didn’t get to all the little messes that made her even _more_ stressed it’d be even _harder_ for her to sleep the _next_ night.

Maddie didn’t know what to say or do, so she just sat there with Mom, hugging each other, and crying together.


	4. Things to Do!

Maddie was on a mission.

Last night, after dinner, she’d dumped her saved allowance on her bedroom floor, counted it out, then put it in a baggie inside of her backpack, which she filled with craft supplies, then set aside.

Next, she went through all her stuffed animals and set aside the biggest, fluffiest three: the build-a-bear golden retriever, Honey, her Jaguar, Jacque, and the biggest of them all: a stuffed yellow lab, Biscuit, that was almost as big as Licorice! (She’d bought him at a yard sale last year. Dad had laughed when he saw her drag it back to the house. Mom had made her wash it immediately, but they’d let her keep him, saying it was her choice what she spent her money on.) Looking at the three candidates together, it was obvious was the right choice was.

* * *

Maddie had helped Mom wash the dishes the night before and it didn’t take her too long to put them away that morning, along with putting the coffee canister back in the pantry. There were just a few other things left on the counter, so Maddie put those away, too. There: that was more like normal, so now the kitchen shouldn’t stress om out any more that day.

(Maddie noticed the newly re-warmed mug of coffee in the microwave and brought it to Mom before it could cool off again. “Here you go! I’m going to take Licorice for a walk than I’m going to Alex’s. Iloveyouseeyoutonightbye!”)

* * *

“I need your help,” Maddie told Alex as soon as she came over. “I’m making a surprise for my mom. You still have those cool markers we used last time?”

Alex grinned at her. “Yup! And I just got some new glitter pens, too!”

 _Perfect_.

* * *

Maddie had thought that the hardest part would be getting to the store and back before dinner, but as soon as she told Mrs. Hernandez what she wanted to do, Alex’s mom promised to take her _that day_ (after she gave Maddie a big hug and said ‘oh, honey’ a lot. Alex’s mom was really nice, too.)

Normally, Maddie would’ve lingered over the caramel treats in the candy section, but not today. Today, she was looking for one thing: the best/most dark chocolate she could get with her allowance.

(She could hardly believe it, but she even managed to find some with _lavender_ in it!)

* * *

When she got back home, Maddie raced to her room and quickly dropped off her backpack (filled with the days finds/results), then closed her door to keep Licorice out before running to meet Mom in the kitchen.

“Can we cook together tonight?”


	5. Just Us

It took a little time after dinner—and after rinsing the dishes as Mom washed them—to assemble the last bits of her surprise, but well before bedtime, it was ready. Maddie carried it all to Mom’s door, then knocked.

“Maddie? Do you need something, sweetie?”

Maddie bounced on her toes, just a little “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” There were footsteps, then Mom opened the door. “Are you—” Mom stopped, staring at Maddie’s assorted goodies.

First, Maddie picked up Biscuit and offered him to Mom. “I thought maybe he could help you sleep better. It’s the biggest one I have.” Mom took him, still looking surprised, but Maddie saw her give Biscuit a hug all the same. Next was the chocolate. “This probably _won’t_ help you sleep, but it is ‘chocolate medicine’.” (That was from a family story from when Maddie was _really_ little and offered Mom some ‘chocolate medicine’ she had ‘made’ for her in her toy kitchen when Mom was sick, once.)

That made Mom laugh, but since her hands were full now, Maddie just held up the next thing to show her: it was a picture that she’d drawn and decorated at Alex’s house, showing Maddie, Mom and Licorice all together in a house and the words ‘Home, Not Alone’ at the bottom.

Now Mom looked like she was going to cry again, but at least it would be the good kind of cry. Still, there was one more thing. Maddie turned the picture so that she could read the letter she’d written on the back of it (with Alex’s glitter pens!):

_“Dear Mom,_

_I love you. I don’t always know how to show it or when to say it, but it’s always true. And I know you love me, because you show it and say it every day._

_I know we both miss Daddy, and he misses us. But we’re going to be okay, because we have each other. By the end of this year, we’re going to be best friends, I know it._

_I’m not going to make one of those ‘coupon books’ for chores, because I’m just going to help: with the dishes in the kitchen, dusting the living room, walking Licorice, and keeping my room clean. You don’t have to do it all, well do it together. I promise._

_I love you,_

_Maddie.”_

Mom was _really_ crying by the end of the letter, and Maddie was, too, a little—she’d had to fight past a pain in her throat to get the last part out, but she’d kept reading, because it was _important_.

Mom dropped Biscuit and the chocolate and gave Maddie a big, _tight_ hug. Maddie hugged her back and they both cried together again. But this time it wasn’t as scary.

This time, there were happy tears, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. That’s Maddie’s first story. Not too much going on, just setting up what the background for the rest of her series will be.
> 
> And because I feel the need to say it: this isn’t a story about a little girl who has to grow up too quickly to take care of her Mom. That’s not what happened, or what will happen. This is about a little girl who decided to take a year to grow even closer to her Mom as the wo of them helped each other through a very hard year.
> 
> Truthfully, it’s combining elements of my dad’s two deployments: one when I was nine and the other when I was in high school, so I’m trying to keep Maddie age-appropriate/accurate, but some of the high school memory may bleed in.


End file.
